Attraction
by redrider6612
Summary: Brennan proves she knows Booth pretty well. B&B bickering in Part 1 B&B romance in the rest Rated M please R
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well, the laptop is in the shop and I'm having serious writing withdrawals--longhand just isn't cutting it!--so here I typed my story directly on the Boneyard without typing it in Word first gasp. Anyway, this was a one shot I'd been mulling around for a few days. I hope you like it. Could be considered a tad OOC.**

Attraction

She waited until he pulled away from the curb in front of Amanda Collins' house.

"You were attracted to her," she said bluntly with a hint of accusation.

Booth's head jerked toward her in surprise and he frowned at her. "What? No!" he replied, looking back at the road again.

Brennan folded her arms. "She was very attractive. There's nothing wrong with admitting it," she said in her most logical tone.

Booth blew out a breath in irritation. He did NOT want to have this conversation with her. "Yes, she was very attractive," he allowed, hoping that would be the end of it. He should have known better.

"You didn't just find her attractive," Brennan pressed. "Your face was flushed and your respiration and pulse were elevated."

He threw another glance her way, frowning, trying to remember if he had given any indication...but no, he really didn't think so. He decided to bluff. "You're imagining things."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Oh, please! You were being nice to her! You're never nice to a suspect."

That earned her a glare. "I'm always nice. Besides, she isn't really a suspect--"

"What? Of course she is. As far as we know, she was the last one to speak to the victim. And she had motive. That would make her our prime suspect." She studied his profile. A muscle was jumping in his cheek. In spite of that she decided to push a bit more. "Booth, if this is going to be a problem, maybe you should excuse yourself from the case--"

"No! Sheesh, Bones, gimme a break! I've never let anything affect my objectivity--"

"Maybe not in the past. But I've never seen you react that way to a suspect."

"You're delusional. Why don't you leave the mind reading and stuff like that to Angela? You just don't have what it takes."

She smirked. "After two and half years, I know you very well, Booth. I've watched your interaction with subjects during many interrogations. I think I am probably the most qualified person--"

"Maybe if you were like other people. But you're usually pretty oblivious--"

"Not this time," she said firmly, turning her head to look out the window. "I know what I saw."

Booth gritted his teeth in frustration. She really raised the bar on stubborn. "What do you want from me?" he said between clenched teeth.

"I'm just concerned that it might influence your handling of the case."

Taking a deep breath, he fought to control his temper. "It'll be fine." She shot him a dubious look. "Tell ya what, if you feel my 'attraction' to Ms Collins is affecting my handling of the investigations, feel free to point it out," he offered, confident that there was no way that was going to happen. After all, Ms Collins was nowhere near as hot as his partner and he managed to control himself around her.

She looked at him thoughtfully. "Fair enough," she finally said.

Booth felt relieved, but she wasn't done yet.

"Are you going to ask her out?"

He shot her a look of shock. "No! You just told me she's a suspect. I would never date a suspect--"

"I mean if the evidence clears her."

"Oh," Booth said, calming down a little. "Well, I suppose it's possible--"

"So you ARE attracted to her," Brennan crowed victoriously.

"Look, did I give you a hard time when you were attracted to that fireman who cut off his brother's head?" he pointed out rashly.

She paled. "Now that's just mean! Do you have to keep bringing that up?" she asked, hurt that he would mention her poor judgment in that case.

Booth sighed. He regretted his words. He knew how hard she had taken the fact that she had actually considered dating that murderer.

"Can we talk about something else?" Booth asked desperately.

"You always do that," she said.

"Do what?" he asked, puzzled.

"Change the subject whenever you get uncomfortable."

"Doesn't everybody?" he asked reasonably.

"No, some people are able to continue a discussion regardless--"

"Maybe squints can, but normal people don't want to talk about things that make them uncomfortable."

"Avoiding a subject because it makes you uncomfortable hardly allows you to work through the problem. Talking about it might help--"

Booth rolled his eyes. "You're assuming it's a problem in the first place. I just prefer to keep some things, like who I find attractive, private." He gave her a sly look. "Besides, what you're suggesting sounds a lot like therapy."

"We're partners. Are you saying there are some things we can't discuss?"

He suppressed a growl of frustration. "Yes! Now you got it! So can we talk about something else?"

Brennan sighed. And he called HER stubborn. "Fine. How did your date with Michelle go the other night?"

Booth pursed his lips in irritation, counting slowly to ten. That wasn't really any different from what they had been talking about. "How about I choose the topic of conversation?"

**A/N: Part two will be posted tomorrow. Please click the little blue button and let me know what you thought.**


	2. Chapter 2

Attraction, part 2

They were at Brennan's apartment, wrapping up the paperwork on the case over Thai food. Brennan made a grab for the mee krob, but Booth was faster. Grinning in triumph, he dug in with his chopsticks. She rolled her eyes and reached for the rice.

"So when are you going to ask Amanda Collins out?" she asked, zeroing in on the one subject Booth DID NOT want to discuss.

"I'm not," he said, focusing on his food.

She frowned at him, chopsticks frozen in midair. "Why not? The case is closed and she didn't do it. I'd think you would jump at the chance to--"

Booth forced a nonchalant shrug. "She wasn't that pretty."

Brennan's mouth fell open. "You're kidding, right? She was gorgeous!" Booth kept eating, but his ears were red and suddenly something occurred to her. "You already asked her, didn't you? And she turned you down!"

His gaze snapped to hers. Damn, she was getting too perceptive for his own comfort. Sighing, he set the carton down and sat back. "She won't date cops. Said she had a boyfriend who was a cop and she couldn't handle it."

She finally shut her mouth. "I bet that doesn't happen very often."

Booth frowned. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "A woman turning you down. You're probably used to getting any woman you want."

He shrugged. "Hey, can't win them all. She probably wasn't 'the one' anyway."

It was her turn to frown. "You still believe in that, huh?"

'Here we go,' he thought with dread. 'Don't answer, don't answer, don't answer,' urged his inner voice. "Yes, I do," he said over the voice's protests.

"If there is such thing as 'the one', what happens if you never meet? Are you supposed to spend your whole life looking?" she asked, sincerely curious.

"I guess so. Either that or you settle for the closest you can find."

She was chewing thoughtfully. "Is that what you were doing with Rebecca? Settling?"

As usual, when she brought up Rebecca, it put him on the defensive. 'I told you,' the inner voice said with satisfaction, 'but you just had to go there.' "No, at the time I thought she was the one. And chances are, if we'd gotten married, we'd still be together, maybe have a couple more kids by now."

"Really? Do you still love her?" she probed, looking at him like he was a fascinating specimen to study.

Setting the carton aside, he leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees and scrubbed his hands down his face. "No, not that way."

She frowned. She opened her mouth to ask another question, but his eyes met hers and his next words silenced her. "If love isn't nurtured...if the two people aren't together to nurture it, it tends to fade, to change, until it isn't the same any more. I care about Rebecca as the mother of my son, but that's all it is now."

For the first time that Booth could remember, she was speechless. She had an odd look on her face that he couldn't fathom. When she finally spoke, her voice had a catch in it and there was a longing there that caught at his heart.

"H-how do you know when you've met the one?"

He took a moment to consider his reply. "When you can't stop thinking of them…can't imagine your life without them…when something great happens to you and they are the first one you think of telling…when they are the last thing you think of before falling asleep…when your dreams are filled with them…when they are the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning." The certainty in his voice made her realize he was speaking from experience. She had to know.

"You've had that with someone, haven't you?" she whispered.

His eyes were soft as he looked deep into hers. "Not yet, but I'm working on it," he said softly, with a slight smile.

Suddenly the intimacy in his gaze was too much for her. She broke his gaze and cleared her throat, making a move to rise. His hand on her arm stopped her and her eyes met his again.

"I'm waiting for her to realize there is such a thing as true love, such a thing as 'the one'. When she does, I'm hoping it's me she turns to."

Her eyes flew wide as his meaning became clear. Panic rose in her. Pulling away from him, she bounded to her feet and walked away, stopping with her back to him and her hands twisted together. He was quiet behind her, leaving her to work it out. After a long moment her shoulders straightened and she turned to face him.

"It's really late," she said, bending to gather up the file. "I'm sure you have things you need to do..."

Booth sighed. She wasn't ready. And he was okay with that. He could wait. Standing, he helped her clean up the remains of their dinner. Their time would come, he was dead certain of that. Because he was already there, experiencing everything he had described to her. For right now, he would do what he could to restore their easy comraderie, satisfied that he had planted the seed.

**Well now, did you like that? Hmmmm? Click the little blue button and tell musie. Part 3 will be posted tomorrow. Thank you for reading and reviewing!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I don't know how I ever thought this one was gonna be a one shot—silly me! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you to everyone for their very kind reviews—you really rock!**

Attraction-part 3

Eleven long days. No new case to bring them together. No last minute phone calls or meetings to wrap up the last case. But that didn't mean she hadn't thought of him. In fact, she'd thought of him more over the past eleven days than she probably would have if they DID have a case. Their last conversation kept popping into her head at the oddest times, prodding her to--what? Call him? On what pretense? Go see him? Same problem.

She immersed herself in her work. She worked on three skeletons from WWI and two bodies from limbo, answered countless emails from colleagues and students and studied forensics articles. She even got four chapters of her new book written. All in all, a very productive eleven days, but the work, usually satisfying and fascinating, left her with a strange feeling of emptiness.

She missed Booth. There, she had admitted it to herself, even though she wouldn't admit it to anyone else. Now it was Saturday night and she was curled up on her couch, a forensics journal open on her lap, a cup of herbal tea at her elbow and soft jazz playing on the sound system. She was trying to relax, but her mind couldn't seem to focus on the article. After reading the same paragraph for the third time, she gave up and tossed the periodical onto the coffee table. She wondered if Booth had Parker this weekend, wondered what he was doing, wondered if he was thinking about her.

"This is silly," she scolded herself aloud. "He's my partner. I can call him just to see how he's doing." Picking up her cell, she hit the speed dial for his home. No answer. Clicking the phone off, she debated calling his cell. Winning the debate, she hit the speed dial before her courage deserted her. He picked up right away.

"Booth."

For a second her mind seized and she couldn't think of a thing to say. Then she started babbling. "Hi! Booth, it's Brennan...h-h-how are you?"

"Open your front door and see for yourself," he replied with a chuckle that caused a thrill to race down her spine. Bouncing up from the couch, she went to answer the door. He was standing there in jeans and a snug black T-shirt, leaning on the doorjamb, his mouth cocked in that half smile she loved.

"What are you doing here?" she asked stupidly, forgetting for the moment that she had just been wishing he was here.

Straightening, he gave her a mock hurt look. "What? Not happy to see me? No 'come on in, its good to see you'?"

She laughed, almost giddy as an enormous surge of happiness swept through her. "Sorry, come on in," she said, opening the door wider. He came in, stopping just inside the living room. He turned to face her. "I-I thought you might have Parker this weekend--" she said.

"Nope. Rebecca took him to see her parents." He was watching her, a faintly puzzled look on his face. "Why were you calling me?"

"Oh, well, uh..." she began, trying to remember what she had planned to say to him. "I was just wondering how you were. I mean, we haven't talked in over a week, and I--"

"Missed me?" he finished hopefully. The cocked grin was back again.

She rolled her eyes, but didn't answer. His ego didn't need the boost. "Can I get you something to drink?" she asked, turning toward the kitchen.

"A beer, if you have it." He strolled over to look over her CD collection.

Returning with his beer, she stopped beside him as he selected a CD. "Hey, look at this...I didn't know you liked Stevie Wonder."

She flushed a little. "He was my mother's favorite...I grew up listening to him. His songs have a strong beat, they're easy to dance to."

Booth popped the disc in and took the beer, turning toward her with a grin as 'Superstition' started playing. At her gesture, they sat on the couch, side by side but not too close. She took a sip of her tea as she gathered her thoughts. Now that he was here, she wasn't quite sure how to broach the subject that had been on her mind constantly since the last time she'd seen him.

Setting his beer down, he leaned back and put his arm along the back of the couch behind her shoulders. All she had to do was lean back too and she'd be in his arms. Instead she turned slightly to look at him. He was watching her with a serious look in his eyes.

"I've been thinking about what you said, about how you know if you've found 'the one'," she began softly, searching his eyes for some indication of what he was thinking. He nodded, never breaking eye contact. "In all the relationships I've been in, I've never experienced that with anyone...until now," she finished on a whisper. His eyes widened and his jaw went slack. She went on. "Up until that night, I hadn't realized...I mean, you always kept a certain...distance, so I never even considered..." she said softly, haltingly.

Booth blinked and swallowed thickly. "What are you saying?" he asked with a catch in his voice.

"I've never felt this way about anyone before," she confessed, leaning closer to him. He didn't move and she was encouraged to continue. "I-I wasn't sure what to DO about it...but when you told me that, and then all but told me how you feel..." She trailed off, suddenly struck speechless by the warmth in his eyes. Her mouth went dry and her palms started to sweat as she thought of kissing him. There would be no turning back if she did that.

Booth's pulse kicked up as his mind processed what she was saying. His eyes dropped to her lips, which were parted and moist and looked incredibly kissable. Before he could form a coherent thought, she leaned in and kissed him, sending his senses spinning. Groaning, his hand came up to touch her cheek, curving around her jaw to urge her closer. Her tongue probed the seam of his lips and he opened up, matching her stroke for stroke, pushing them both to the edge of self control. They both pulled back at the same time, breathing heavily, eyes heavy-lidded with desire.

"Oh, my," she said in that sexy husky voice of hers.

"Yeah," he said breathlessly. "At least." She leaned in to resume but he held her off. "Wait, gimme a minute," he said, fighting to rein in his raging hormones. No way was he going to rush this, she was too important to him.

She frowned at him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Not a damn thing. I just...need a minute," he said. He closed his eyes, thinking it would be easier if he couldn't see her, but that just allowed messages from all his other senses to come flooding in, overwhelming him with their intensity. The smell of her hair. The pressure of her hand on his chest. The sound of her breathing. The taste of her. He opened his eyes to find her studying him.

"Booth?" she asked softly. "Are you sorry?" The fear in her voice brought a lump to his throat.

"No. Hell no. I just want to take it slow, Temperance. Give us time to adjust to the change in our relationship. Go on a few dates," he said with a chuckle.

"Dates? It's not like we just met, Booth. We've known each other for nearly three years--"

"As partners and friends. I don't know about you, but I'm gonna need some time for the paradigm to shift. This is just...wow." He ran his knuckles along her jawline, stopping at the soft dent in her chin.

Smiling, she leaned forward to kiss him again, briefly. She pulled back and his eyes opened and she was mesmerized by the way he was looking at her. "I bow to your expertise. After all, you're the heart person. You'll let me know when your paradigm has caught up with us?" she teased with a half smile.

He smiled softly. "You'll be the first to know," he assured her, and the deep timbre of his voice sent goosebumps up her arms. Dropping a quick kiss on her lips, he got to his feet. "Gotta go."

She sat up, blinking up at him, a little dazed by how fast he had moved. He grinned down at her. "Gotta get busy planning our first date," he said with a sly smile. She got up and followed him to the door.

"When will that be?" she asked a little wistfully.

He turned at the door. She looked a little lost and he couldn't resist pulling her into his arms for a hug. "Tomorrow night," he said, and then, unable to resist, he leaned down to kiss her again. She wound her arms around his neck, pressing close and deepening the kiss. Part of her hoped to change his mind. He broke the kiss reluctantly, resting his forehead against her as his libido called him every foul name in the book. "Seven o'clock?" he whispered huskily. She nodded and stepped back, opening the door. She watched him walk toward his car, then closed and locked the door. 'Wait 'til I tell Angela,' she thought with a smile. She was going to go nuts.

**A/N: I was originally going to end it there, but everyone on the Boneyard and the Anti-Boneyard begged for a chapter on the first date, so there is one more chappie which I will post tomorrow. Please review—you know how much musie loves reviews!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here it is, the much anticipated first date. Thank you everyone for the amazing, enthusiastic reviews. You guys make all the toiling over the computer worthwhile. Let me know what you think.**

Attraction, Part 4

All he would tell her was to wear something classy and nice. She wanted to call Angela to get her advice on exactly what fit the criteria, but she was reluctant to bring her in on this just yet. It was too new and she wanted to keep it between them for just a bit longer. A tiny part of her, way back in the darkest corner of her mind, was afraid the evening was going to be a disaster. They had been in social situations outside work before, but never this way, looking at each other in a new light. Maybe it would be too awkward. She pushed those thoughts back, unable to bear the thought that this attraction between them wasn't going to survive being brought out into the harsh reality of life. She had to believe they had a chance, or they would lose before they even began.

Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, she decided she had done pretty good even without Angela's help. 'I hope Booth agrees,' she thought, picking up the matching shawl just as the doorbell rang.

Booth fidgeted as he waited for her to answer the door. He was a little nervous and a lot keyed up. Everything was riding on tonight. This date would be the turning point in their relationship, the test to show whether they could be something more than friends and partners. He was determined to do everything he could to make sure they could.

Suddenly the door opened and she was standing there with a nervous smile and his mouth dropped open. He'd seen her dressed up before, but this...she was stunning. His eyes slowly traveled down and back up, taking in the deep burgundy dress that hugged her generous curves from shoulder to knee. Her hair was pulled up in a loose bun at the crown of her head, with tantalizing tendrils curling down here and there, accentuating her long slender neck. He had the sudden overwhelming desire to step close and nibble that neck, but he knew if he did, they wouldn't be going anywhere but her bedroom. All that would prove was their sexual compatibility, and while he was certainly looking forward to that step in this relationship dance they were doing, he didn't want to rush it.

Brennan froze at the sight of him. She saw him in a suit nearly every day, but somehow this was different. She suspected he'd bought a new suit and felt a surge of affection at this sign that he'd made a special effort to look sharp for her. And he did look sharp. She waited for him to say something.

He finally shut his mouth and swallowed visibly. "You look...wonderful," he said huskily.

Blushing, she looked down and then looked up at him again. "So do you," she said with a smile. Booth brought his right hand from behind his back to reveal the flowers he had brought and her smile broadened. "Daffodils! Oh, Booth, thank you. They're lovely." She took the bouquet and turned from the door.

"Those weren't easy to find," Booth said as he came in and closed the door. He watched as she got a vase from the cabinet in the kitchen and filled it with water.

Putting the bouquet in the vase, she smiled as she arranged the flowers. "Well, it was very thoughtful of you. I love them." She turned to look at him again, and he stood there staring into her amazing eyes. "Shall we go?" she finally asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable under his stare.

He started a bit. "Uh, yeah, we have reservations at Trevor's."

Her brows went up. "Really? Hmmm, pretty swanky. Are you sure you can afford it?" she asked slyly. "We could go Dutch."

"No, I'm paying, Bo--Temperance. We're gonna do this right," he said firmly.

She smiled, charmed by his chivalry. Normally she would have balked, but somehow, something about this night allowed her to set aside her feminist tendencies and just enjoy being treated like a lady.

Trevor's had a fine menu with no prices, tables set with linen and crystal and china and silver, and a dance floor with a six piece ensemble playing mellow classics made famous by Sinatra, Martin and Mancini, among others. Not Booth's usual kind of place, but he had wanted to impress her. Seating her at their table, he could tell by the smile on her face that he had succeeded.

When the wine was poured and the waiter had left with their orders, Booth leaned forward. "Have I told you yet how beautiful you look?" he asked with a smile.

"Three times, but who's counting?" she teased. She began to get uncomfortable under his stare. "My book is almost done," she said.

"Really? Aren't you ahead of schedule?" he asked, amused by her obvious attempt to redirect the conversation.

Her smile was smug. "Yes, my deadline isn't until the middle of next month. It's really coming together well."

"That's great. When do I get to read it?" he asked.

"When it's published," she said firmly, taking a sip of wine.

"Aww, c'mon, I thought since we're, you know, dating, you might let me--" he coaxed.

"Ha! Is that the only reason you wanted to start dating? So you can get to read my manuscripts before anyone else?" She was only half teasing.

He sobered immediately. "You know better than that," he murmured.

She sobered too. "Yeah, I do."

Their gazes remained locked until the waiter showed up with their food. The meal passed amicably with idle chat about Parker and the squints doings. When they were done and the dishes had been taken away, Booth leaned close to her.

"Wanna dance?" he asked, holding out his hand to her. She stared at his hand for a long moment, suddenly nervous. Somehow putting her hand in his implied a commitment, the last step in bringing their relationship to a more intimate level. Would there be a way back from there if it didn't work out? Her eyes shot up to meet his. The warmth she found there steadied her, reassured her that this was right.

She slipped her hand into his and let him guide her to the dance floor. He pulled her into his arms as the band started playing 'Unchained Melody' and she smiled up at him. "This was always one of my dad's favorites," she said.

Booth cocked a smile at her. "Ironic, given his current residence," he said wryly.

She frowned. "That is NOT funny," she said, stiffening in his arms a little.

He squeezed her waist so she would look up at him. "I know. Bad joke. I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "How is he doing?"

Relaxing in his arms, she shrugged a little. "As well as could be expected, considering," she replied. "It's odd, but seeing him there has...diminished him somehow. My childhood memories of him, he was always bigger than life, but now--" she trailed off.

"That happens to everyone, Temperance," he assured her. "I still remember when I first realized my dad wasn't a superhero. He had appendicitis when I was fifteen. Seeing him in that hospital bed hit me hard."

She looked thoughtful and Booth was quiet, satisfied to just dance with her, enjoying holding her in his arms. He pulled her a little closer.

Stroking her hand along his shoulder to his collar, she ran a finger up his neck. "How's the paradigm shift going? Any progress?" she whispered.

He looked down to find her looking up at him with sparkling eyes. "I'm working on it," he said with a twist of his lips. "It's only been a day, Bones. Give it time." He had never dreamed she was going to be so gung-ho.

Her finger slid along the top of his collar around to the back, then trailed up to his hairline. Booth was amazed at how all of his nerves had come to life at that slight caress. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath.

He opened his eyes to find her watching him with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Stop that," he whispered, squeezing her hand in warning.

She smiled innocently. "What, this?" she asked with a husky chuckle, swirling her finger up into his hair.

He smiled with his teeth gritted. "You're playing with fire, Bones," he warned softly.

She chuckled again, but the finger retreated. "I hope so," she said impishly.

Booth was speechless. She was flirting with him! He was fascinated. He'd never seen this side of her. He resisted the urge to pull her closer, painfully aware of his physical reaction to her, but she wasn't cooperating, using the moves of the dance to brush against him. The song ended and he decided he needed a break. Taking her by the hand, he led her back to their table.

She had a smug look on her face as they sat. Booth signaled the waiter for coffee, then smiled at her wryly. "You're playing dirty."

Her brows rose. "You never said I couldn't do anything to...help things along. Far as I'm concerned, I've already adjusted. I can't help it if you're a little slow," she teased.

The coffee arrived and Booth poured sugar into his and took a sip, taking his time with his reply. Putting the cup down, he leaned close to her. Her breath caught at the warm intimacy in his gaze, and when he spoke, his voice was deep and husky. "Just so we're clear, I AM slow. In fact, when we finally make love, I plan to take it so slow, you're gonna be begging." He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. Under the guise of kissing her knuckles, his tongue slipped out to probe between two of her fingers. Her eyes flew wide, the pupils suddenly dialated as desire raced along her nerve endings. Booth grinned. Two could play that game. He put her limp hand back on the table, then sat back and took another sip of coffee.

It took her a full minute to recover. Smiling a bit shakily, she took a sip of her own coffee. She took a deep breath. "Touche, Booth. Just don't make me wait too long."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "As long as it takes, Bones. As long as it takes."

He walked her to her door but declined her invitation to come in. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. She wound her arms up around his neck, thrilling to the feel of his body against hers. He was the first to pull back.

"See you tomorrow?" he asked when he could finally speak.

She nodded. "Sure." They stood there for a long moment, each waiting for the other to turn away.

Booth ran his knuckles along her cheek and her eyes drifted shut as her senses clamored for more. Her eyes popped open when the touch was gone.

"Bye," he said, then turned to go. He looked back at her when he reached his car. He waved and waited for her to go inside, then got into the SUV and closed the door. He sat for a minute, calling himself every name in the book, fighting against the overwhelming urge to go back. Starting the car, he left, comforting himself with the knowledge that everything happens...eventually.

THE END


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my favorite smut-aholic, jerseybones. Love ya, sweetie!**

**Attraction**

**The Seduction**

They dated frequently over the next three weeks, growing closer and ever more comfortable with each other. But they still hadn't gotten past heavy petting and Brennan was beginning to wonder if Booth might be afraid to take that final step with her. Maybe he was afraid that it would affect their working dynamic. She personally had no problem compartmentalizing her life, but she knew it was more difficult for him. He was such an emotional person. Drastic measures would have to be taken if they were ever going to get past this fear of his.

It was Friday night and they were at her place eating dinner. Booth took his last bite and wiped his mouth and sat back. "That was the best chicken parmesan I've ever had. Thank you," he said, smiling at her.

She smiled too. "You're welcome. Ready for dessert?" she asked, standing and taking the dishes to the sink. She turned on the water and squirted in a little dish soap.

"Maybe later," he replied as he got up and blew out the candles. He picked up their wine glasses and put them in the sink. She turned off the water and turned to him.

"Are you sure?" she asked in an odd tone. He gave her a curious look.

"I'm pretty full. Why? What's for dessert?" he asked.

Reaching behind her back, she unzipped her little black dress. With a little shrug of her shoulders it fell into a puddle at her feet and she stepped out of her shoes. "I am," she murmured huskily, a smile lurking around her lips.

Booth's jaw slackened and his throat went dry as he took in the barely-there black lace bra and panties. _Well, it's a good thing I didn't know what she was wearing under that dress, _was the first coherent thought he had. She was watching him calmly, waiting for him to say or do something. Evidently it was his move.

"Temperance, I—let's think about this—its gonna affect our work dynamic—" he stammered, putting his hands on his hips instead of where they wanted to be, which was all over her delectable body.

She stepped closer and held his stare as her breasts brushed his chest. "It doesn't have to, Booth," she whispered. "And if it does, we'll deal with it. I know we can. We've done well so far, haven't we?"

He had to admit she was right. They had kept things professional at work, so much so that none of their coworkers had guessed anything had changed between them. Angela might have noticed that they weren't bickering quite as much, but she hadn't commented.

He closed his eyes, fighting a losing battle with the overwhelming desire her nearness was causing. That didn't help as the scent of her became sharper and his groin tightened as his mind kept the image of her clad in her sexy lingerie before his mind's eye. Opening his eyes again, he saw that she was still watching him, but now her eyes were half closed and her color had risen in response to his proximity. _Damn, she's beautiful_, he thought, and he knew it was time to give them both what they'd wanted for so long.

Bending his head slowly, his lips met hers as his hands caught her wrists and manacled them behind her back. She tolerated the restriction for a time as he kissed her, deep, soft, wet passion-filled kisses that turned her knees to jelly. Desire curled in her belly and she started to struggle, aching to touch him. He lifted his head, breathing heavily as her eyes fluttered open to stare at him.

"We're gonna take this slow," he said huskily. "My way this time, okay?"

Curiosity made her nod her head finally. Maybe his way would be better. This time.

He took her hand and led her to the bedroom. Stopping by the bed, he kicked off his shoes and turned the lamp on. Framing her face, he leaned down to kiss her again before easing her down onto the bed, stretching out beside her fully clothed.

"This isn't fair," she protested with a bit of her usual spirit. "You've got more clothes on than I do."

"Not my fault," he pointed out reasonably. "You're the one who stripped in the kitchen." He propped his head on his hand, looking down at her with a half smile. "Besides, it's not about fairness. It's about me, pleasing you my way, which will please me." She opened her mouth to argue and he raised an admonishing finger. "Ah-ah-ah, my way, remember? We'll have time for your way later." Her mouth snapped shut. "Trust me, okay?" he murmured, then leaned in to kiss her again. She sighed and opened her lips, groaning as his tongue teased hers, sending her passion soaring higher.

Her arms came up around his shoulders of their own volition, bringing her breasts into contact with his chest. He pulled back, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. His hand stroked down her side to her hip, sliding around to cup her ass and squeeze. She moved her legs restlessly, her hips rolling towards him, seeking fulfillment. He slid his hand down her thigh, hooking it behind her knee to draw her leg to rest on his hip, opening her core for his exploration. Reaching between them, his fingers teased the tender skin of her inner thighs, causing another involuntary roll of her hips. She gave a wordless whimper, her breath catching as his fingers finally pushed aside her panties and found the aching nub at her center. She gave a strangled cry as the knot of desire that had been growing from the moment he kissed her tightened painfully.

"Beautiful," he murmured as he watched passion tighten her features. He slipped a finger into her, then a second one as his thumb continued to brush her clit. Her hips had begun to move in a rhythm as old as time and he felt her inner muscles begin to tighten as he drove her higher.

Suddenly, just as she reached the brink, he stopped and rolled to his knees. She gave a cry of protest, choked off as he pulled off her soaking panties. Then his lips took over where his hand had left off and she screamed as pleasure crashed over her. His tongue alternated teasing at her clit and pushing into the pulsing center of her until the last wave of her orgasm sent shudders through her body and she collapsed, boneless with satisfaction. He moved to lie beside her, cradling her to his chest as she clutched at him.

They lay that way for a long time. His hand was idly stroking her back as he marveled at the softness of her skin. Finally she sat up on an elbow to look at him. "You have too many clothes on," she pointed out with a wry smile.

He cocked a grin. "So do you," he said, reaching for the front clasp of her bra. She slapped at his hand.

"Ah-ah-ah," she scolded, imitating his tone from earlier. "You first."

His brows rose. It seemed she was taking over. Intrigued, he got up and stripped in record time and lay back down. When he reached for the clasp of her bra again, she slapped his hand again and pushed him onto his back and straddled his middle. He reached up to fondle her breasts and she grabbed his hands and pushed them down on the pillow on each side of his head.

"My way now," she said with an impish grin. He stifled a groan. He was already painfully hard, his cock nudging at the crease of her ass. He didn't know how much of 'her way' he'd be able to handle. But fair was fair. This ought to be interesting, if it didn't kill him.

He kept his hands lying palms up on the pillow after she released him and she gave him an approving nod. She unfastened her bra, then teased him by slowly peeling the cups back, finally shrugging the straps off and tossing it away. His hands twitched as he fought the overwhelming urge to touch her, but he managed to stay still. His reward came when she leaned forward to kiss him softly and her breasts brushed his chest. His hips strained toward her involuntarily as her tongue moved in and out of his wanting mouth, imitating what she wanted a certain part of his anatomy to do to her.

Booth groaned when she sat up, trapping his cock between her ass and his lower belly. Wriggling a bit, she worked it between the cheeks of her bottom, then began flexing her hips forward and back, teasing him with a fraction of the friction and pressure that he really wanted. By now his hands were fisted on the pillow and his legs were trembling with the effort to control himself.

"Bones," he rasped in a warning tone.

"Call me Temperance," she demanded, continuing with her sweet torture. "I don't think it's appropriate to call me Bones when we're like this," she said primly. He would have laughed if he weren't so painfully aroused.

"You're killing me here," he muttered. He wasn't going to beg; after all, he had started this.

"Poor baby," she said huskily. Something in his face must have told her not to push her luck, because she chose that moment to move her hips into position. Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, she enveloped him, and it took the last shreds of his self control not to flex his hips to drive himself into her up to the hilt. Pleasure sent goose bumps racing down his legs and he thought he was going to die right then if he didn't move.

Thank God she began to move then and he eagerly picked up the rhythm. His hands came down to grasp her hips and she didn't protest, she was so caught up in the sensations that were washing over her, wave after wave of intense pleasure. Since she'd allowed him that liberty, he stroked his hands up her rib cage to cup her breasts. When his thumbs brushed her nipples she stiffened and cried out, so he pinched them. Her scream echoed off the walls and his arms came around her, pulling her down to lie against him. Rolling them both, he took over, hips pumping until she came with a gasp and a hoarse cry. He joined her then, coming harder than he ever had before.

Later, as they lay together, with the sweat slowly drying from their bodies, he chuckled a bit and she looked up questioningly. "I'll never be able to hear the word 'dessert' again without thinking of this."

She grinned. "That could be embarrassing, especially if it's Parker that mentions it," she teased.

"Tell me about it," he replied wryly.

**A/N 2: Well, did you like it? The dessert thing is something my hubby and I started when the kids were little and we wanted to talk about whether there would be any nookie later. Of course, it was a bit awkward at times, 'cuz the kids would want 'dessert' too and I would have to come up with something. hehe**


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